The Rise and Fall of a Domestic Diva

by Sarah May

  She slammed the door shut. ‘We’ve had it over two years.’

  ‘I haven’t seen you use it.’ He realised as he was saying this that it was the wrong thing to saythat it could even be classified a criticismbut he was getting himself lost; he couldn’t remember what it was they’d been talking about or why he was holding a screwdriver in his hands. He stared at the disembodied motor unit on the bench in front of him, wondering when exactly he’d had the idea of trying to fix itwhen exactly he’d felt enthusiastic enough to take on the motor.

  ‘What’s brought this on?’ Kate demanded.

  ‘What?’

  ‘This…fixation with repairs.’

  ‘Fixation? I’m not fixatedI just found it in the cupboard when I was looking for tea bags and I thought—’

  ‘Why now?’ She insisted.

  ‘KateI don’t know.’

  ‘I wake up and find you mending a motor that’s been waiting to be mended for over two yearsfor a machine that no longer exists. Why?’

  ‘Why does it have to bother you so much?’

  ‘It doesn’tI just need to know why.’

  He mumbled, ‘There is no why,’ before starting to collect the parts together, putting them back in the box next to the teapot with the broken spout Sellotaped to it, as Kate’s mobile started to ring again.

  They stared at each other.

  ‘You want me to get that?’

  She shook her head.

  Making an effort, Robert said, ‘Smells nice.’ He nodded at the tortilla on the hob.

  ‘It’s for the PRC meeting tonight.’

  ‘Tonight?’

  ‘I did tell you,’ she warned him.

  ‘Okay, okay. I forgot, I’m sorry.’

  ‘You’ve got pie.’

  ‘Pie?’

  She moved her hand across the panorama of carbohydrates filling the bench opposite. ‘Corned beef, cheese and onionand I think the last one’s potato.’

  Robert didn’t say anything as his elbow slipped off the bench and he lurched forward into the middle of the kitchen, regaining his balance and wobbling back towards the bench.

  Kate heard herself saying, ‘You’re drunk,’ before she even realised it.

  That’s why he looked strange earlierhis movements had been slower and more deliberate than usual.

  ‘I’m not drunk.’

  She stared at him in silence, trying not to panic, waiting for an explanation and at the same time not wanting to hear it. ‘Christ, Robert,’ she said at last.

  ‘So I had a few drinks with Les after work,’ he blurted out, aggressive with guilt.

  ‘How many’s a few?

  It was getting darker in the kitchen and Flo was blowing raspberries at the star that squeaked.

  Robert had been working in the light from the cooker hood, which cast itself unevenly round the rest of the kitchen, not quite reaching everything and bouncing off the surfaces it did reach, making them look fragile. It hadn’t occurred to either of them to switch the overhead lights on.

  ‘Did something happen today?’ Kate said, looking at him properly for the first time since she came in.

  ‘Today?’ Robert said slowly. ‘Today something did happenyes.’

  This was unusually cryptic for Robert. ‘Jerome?’

  The name had a visible effect on him, but he didn’t say anything.

  ‘Jerome’s a problem, isn’t he? Why do we never talk about Jerome?’

  ‘Because you’re not always the easiest person to talk to…at the moment. It’s like you’re never here.’

  ‘Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m trying to bring up a five-year-old and a six-month-old babyof course I’m never here. I’m nowhere close to being bloody here. You’ve got no ideasometimes it takes all I’ve got just to get up in the morning.’

  ‘Kate…’

  He watched her yelling at him, suddenly wanting to touch her somewhere, to try and contain her in some way before she disappeared in front of his eyes.

  ‘Are you going to say anything? Robert?’

  ‘I want to kill him.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Jerome. I want to kill him. I think about killing himall the time. He gets to me.’

  ‘They all get to you.’

  Idly, Robert picked up the broken motor from the blender again. ‘Not like thisnever like this,’ he said, tired, suddenly aware of just how much he didn’t want to talk to Kate about this right now. Then, before she had time to start up again, he said, ‘I saw a job advertised in the TES today.’

  ‘You did?’ She didn’t even try to sound interested.

  ‘Botswana.’

  ‘Stop it,’ she said sharply.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The motorwhatever it is you’re about to start doing to the motor.’

  Unable to bear his tinkering any longer, she crossed the kitchen, grabbed the box out of his hands, then walked over to the bin and threw it in.

  As the lid clattered shut, Robert was aware that, within the last three seconds, he had become angry.

  ‘What was all that about?’

  ‘What?’ She turned on him.

  ‘That…just now.’

  ‘Nothing.’ She walked out of the kitchen and down the hallwayaway from him and his day.

  ‘Kate,’ he yelled, ‘are we going to talk about this? What is this? What’s this all about? I know you’ve been stressed lately…’

  Peering at Flo, whose arms jerked towards him as he sidestepped the bouncy chair, he followed Kate out into the hallway.

  She was about four paces in front of him, moving slowly, silently, away from him towards the stairs. There was something intractable about her postureas though she was taking something away from him she had no intention of ever giving backand he hated her for that, hated her so much he could have killed her right then.

  He caught up with her at the first landing, grabbing hold of her wrist. If he didn’t stop her now it felt as though she would just carry on climbing flight after flight of stairs, willing them into existence, and he’d be fated to walk four paces behind herin perpetuity.

  ‘I haven’t got time for this,’ she said, against a backdrop of hall wall that needed painting, but that they couldn’t agree on a colour for.

  She didn’t try to pull her wrist away.

  ‘For what?’

  She paused. Up close, even in his own clothes, Robert smelt of other people’s children, and povertyother people’s poverty. She hadn’t started out afraid of poverty, but she was now. ‘This,’ she said, suddenly unsure.

  ‘Listen, I know you’ve been stressed lately,’ he said again. ‘About St Anthony’s and stuff.’

  ‘You should be saying we’ve been stressed, but you’re rightI’ve been stressed. Throughout the whole thing it’s felt like me and my stress, we’re over here somewhere and you…fuck knows where you’ve been.’

  ‘It’s Jerome, he…’

  ‘…Probably went to Brunton Park before going to Ellington. Ellington’s biggest intake comes from Brunton Park. They have children there who were child soldiers in the Congo, Robert.’

  ‘I knowI’ve got most of them sitting in the back row of my English class.’

  ‘And would you want to see Findlay sitting in the back row of one of your English classes?’

  ‘Well, they wouldn’t timetable it so that—’

  ‘Robert!’

  ‘Okayokay.’

  ‘How would you feel about Findlay ending up at Ellington?’

  ‘What, like me?’

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Robertthat’s exactly what I’m talking about when I say I’ve been stressed. This is what it’s been like for months nowsince before Flo was born.’

  ‘But, Kate,’ he moved his hands up to her shoulders. ‘Findlay’s not going to Oliver Goldsmith’she’s going to St Anthony’s. You can relaxFindlay’s in now.’ This had no visible effect on Kate, who was watching him strangely, with a look that veered between blank and suspicious.

  �
�Kate, look at mewill you just look at me. Kate -.’

  He saw the effort on her face: she tried, she really did. Their eyes met and he was startledsuddenly, unexpectedlyby an overwhelming memory of the gloriously filthy sex they used to have. ‘No,’ he said, instinctively, as Kate’s eyes slid away from him, towards the stairs. ‘We have to do this now.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Thiswhatever we’re doing that’s…that’s…’ The anger had gone, passing through him so quickly it had left him feeling bereft, tearful even. He could feel the tears collecting now somewhere in his belly, getting mixed up with the desire he felt at the sight of the curls the rain had given Kate’s hair at the nape of her neck as she twisted away from himcurls he hadn’t noticed for months, maybe even years. ‘That’s…keeping us standing here together.’

  Kate couldn’t move her head any further without hitting wall, so she looked up instead, through the skylight at the top of the stairs to an evening full, suddenly, of starlings.

  ‘Kate…’

  The way he said it made so many things feel possible again.

  Robert saw her face change and could feel himself beginning to unravel. He wanted to kiss her more than anything. The tears were rising up from his belly; he was going to start crying and Kate didn’t want to see him cry. Kate wanted…what did Kate want? Did she feel as lonely as he did right then? Was loneliness what they had in commonthe profound loneliness of people bereft of themselves? If Kate had lost Kate and Robert had lost Roberthow on earth were they meant to set about finding each other?

  ‘Kate…’

  She was looking directly at him now. If he said her name like that once more, she was going to end up telling him everything and she wasn’t entirely sure where everything would lead them. ‘Stop it! Stop saying that,’ she yelled suddenly.

  The tears, which had been on the verge of breaking, fell back down into his belly as she vanished before his eyes.

  ‘Please, Kate.’

  ‘Stop itjust stop it.’ She was almost screaming now.

  The air between them was vibrating wildly, gravity had been shot to pieces and there was no way of holding anything down any more. Who started this, anyway?

  Robert let his back slump against the wall and gave in to feeling drunk and exhausted. ‘We just need a break, Kate, a clean break.’ He paused. ‘What about it?’

  They looked at each other, and a brief spark of recognitioncomplicitypassed between them.

  Then Kate broke away, unconvinced. ‘A clean break, where?’

  He was staring wildly at her, thinking anywhere…anywhere other than here. ‘Botswana?’

  ‘You’ve already mentioned Botswana. I don’t want to go to Botswana.’

  ‘Sierra Leone?’

  ‘Let’s just leave Africa out of it.’

  Then Margery’s voice croaked up the stairs, ‘You’re not talking about New Zealand are you?’

  Kate and Robert pushed their heads in unison round the turn in the stairs and saw Margery standing at the bottom of them, her hand on the banister. The hair on the left-hand side of her head was flat from where she’d been sleeping on it and there was a red patch on her face where she’d dribbled over the sofa and the wet fabric had irritated her skin.

  ‘She’s awake,’ Kate hissed at Robert. ‘How long has she been awake for?’

  Robert shrugged. ‘What’s that, Mum?’

  ‘You’re home,’ she said, then carried on with, ‘When I was talking to Beatrice earlier, she said you were thinking about going to New Zealand.’

  ‘There was never any talk of New Zealand, Mum.’

  ‘Well Beatrice said there was.’

  ‘In passing, maybe…nothing more.’

  ‘New Zealand’s on the other side of the world.’

  ‘Mum!’ Robert said more forcefully than he’d meant to, ‘nobody’s going to New Zealandnobody.’

  He turned desperately back to Kate, his eyes sliding down her throat, whose veins were still shaking, and felt an almost uncontrollable wave of desire.

  ‘Beatrice really upset me,’ Margery persisted.

  Robert reeled towards Kate, wanting to make love to her here on the stairs, regardless of Margery standing at the bottom of them.

  ‘She really did.’

  Kate was watching him, afraid.

  Robert paused, saw her face, then pulled himself aggressively away and went heavily downstairs.

  Kate stayed where she was, staring at the sets of handprints big and small on the grey wall. She heard Margery say, ‘I’ll make some tea.’ Then her phone started ringing again and this time she carried on upstairs into their bedroom and retrieved it from her handbag.

  It was HSBCshe’d spoken to them earlier about increasing their overdraft limitphoning again. There were four other missed callsone from an unknown number and three from Jessica. Three?

  Then she remembered.

  ‘Where’s Findlay?’ she yelled, running downstairs and into the kitchen.

  Robert, who was emptying the teapot into the sink, turned slowly round. ‘What?’

  ‘I saidwhere’s Findlay?’

  ‘Findlay?’

  ‘Yes, Findlaywhere’s Findlay? He’s meant to be hereyou were meant to be picking him and Arthur up from Swim Club.’

  ‘Swim Club?’

  ‘Shit, Robertwhat’s the time now?’

  ‘Twenty past six,’ Margery’s voice called out from the lounge.

  ‘Shit!’

  Kate was aware of a mauve and green blur suddenly surrounding Robert as she screamed, ‘You forgot to pick up the boys!’

  Robert continued to stare blankly at her. ‘So I’ll go now.’

  ‘You can’t goyou’re drunk.’

  ‘Drunk?’ Margery said, outraged at the accusation.

  ‘Tell her you went to the pub after school,’ Kate demanded.

  ‘I went to the pub after school.’

  ‘And that you’re drunk.’

  ‘And that I’m drunk.’

  ‘You’re not drunk,’ Margery said, ignoring the confession.

  ‘RobertI don’t have time for this. I’m-going-to-get-our-son-Findlay.’ And with that, Kate hauled Flo, now screaming, out of her bouncy chair and into her car seat.

  ‘You can leave Flo herewith me,’ Robert said.

  ‘You’re drunk,’ Kate hissed. ‘I’m not leaving her with you.’ Grunting, she swung the car seat up into the crook of her arm.

  ‘I’m here,’ Margery said from the kitchen doorway.

  Kate stared at her, then, without another word, walked out of the house, slamming the front door shut.

  Robert and Margery stood in the kitchen listening to the footsteps disappear, the screech of the un-oiled gate and a car engine starting up soon drowned by the sound of other traffic on the road. Robert drifted through to the lounge and Margery, with a contented sigh, got the tea tray ready.

  ‘Come on, love,’ she said a few minutes later, walking through to the lounge and putting the tray down on the coffee table. ‘We won’t be having supper till late, so I thought I’d put us some bits out.’ Her eyes scanned the plates full of Battenburg cake, Mr Kipling’s Bakewell tart and Nice biscuits. ‘You don’t mind supper late?’

  When Robert didn’t respond to this, Margery said, ‘Don’t beat yourself up about the boysyou’ve been at work all day.’

  ‘I completely forgot.’

  ‘Did Kate even tell you?’

  ‘Last week.’

  ‘But did she remind you this morning about picking the boys upor phone you?’

  ‘Mum, that’s not the point.’

  Unsure what the point was, Margery started to make her way contentedly through a slice of Battenburg. ‘Her saying you’re drunk.’ She shook her head.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Kate…saying you’re drunk.’

  ‘Maybe I am.’

  ‘You’re not drunk.’

  ‘I did go to the pub after school.’

  ‘Well, you’re entitle
d to itand you’re home now. She needs to calm down,’ Margery added, trying to keep the bits of Battenburg in her mouth. Another minute passed with Robert slumped inert, making no effort to help himself to the contents of the tea tray. Suddenly irritated, Margery said, ‘Beatrice really did upset mesaying what she did earlier about New Zealand.’

  Robert stood up suddenly and left the room.

  ‘Where are you going? Margery shouted, her mouth full again. ‘Your tea’s all pouredwe’ve got biscuits.’

  ‘I don’t want tea,’ Robert said, blinking into the light of the fridge while banging his head repeatedly against the door.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he yelled back, louder than he’d meant to.

  Chapter 15

  The smell of chlorine filled the stairwell leading up to Jessica’s maisonette at No. 283 Prendergast Roadchlorine and onions frying. Kate climbed the stairs, banging Flo’s car seat off walls covered in intricate biro drawings of spidersa legacy from the previous owner’s children. The door at the top of the stairs was open and she could hear Arthur and Findlay yelling at each other as she walked up the last few steps and into the Palmers’ maisonette.

  Jessica appeared in the kitchen doorway, still dressed in her suit and drying her hands on a tea towel.

  ‘Jessica, I’m soso sorry. Robert got held up at work and—’

  Jessica cut in with, ‘I didn’t know what was going on when the leisure centre rang. They said nobody had come to collect the boys and they couldn’t get hold of you. Then I tried to get hold of you and couldn’t—’

  ‘It was Robert, he—’

  ‘So I thought I’d better go and collect them myself and…’

  For a moment Kate thought Jessica was going to cry, but she held tightly onto the side of the kitchen bench and the moment passed.

  ‘Jessica, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘I had to get Jake to cover my two valuations.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  Jessica sighed. ‘Come inI’m making hot dogs.’

  Unable to bear the way Jessica was looking at her any longershe didn’t think she’d ever seen Jessica angry beforeKate went through to the lounge where Findlay and Arthur were practising karate on the patch of carpet not taken up by Arthur’s Transformers collection. The maisonette always felt messyno, disorganised was a better word. Arthur’s eyes briefly scanned her from behind a pair of science goggles then switched back to Findlay.